The Death of Spock
by V Tsuion
Summary: Spock has died and Kirk is left to pick up the pieces.
1. Perimortem

"He's dead, Jim."

The words shocked Captain James T. Kirk into awareness.

"What? Who?" he demanded blearily.

"Spock, he's dead," Dr. Leonard McCoy reiterated, his voice dull, "I tried everything, but I couldn't save him. I'm sorry Jim-"

"What? How? Are you sure?" Kirk sputtered, "Isn't there something else you could do? He's a Vulcan, can't they heal themselves? Isn't there some 'Vulcan mind trick' you can try?"

"Jim, he's dead."

Kirk's mouth opened, but no words came out, so he let it fall shut. There was a long moment of silence as the words sunk in.

"Let me see him." he ordered at last.

Dr. McCoy obeyed, leading the captain from his room where he had been waiting, out into the medical bay. One of the assistant nurses was cleaning up around the only occupied bed. It had been covered with a sheet. The young nurse froze as the door slid open and ran off as soon as Dr. McCoy gave him permission. Then they were alone in the sick bay. Nurse Chapel had already paid her last regards - if she had been able to.

Kirk rushed over to the bed and tossed back the sheet without invitation. Beneath it was Spock, still wearing the pale blue patients' uniform. He was eerily still, his skin strangely pink as his green blood had settled to his back. His eyes had been closed and his arms placed upon his chest, almost like an Ancient Egyptian mummy, so that they were not left dangling at his sides.

Kirk grabbed one of Spock's hands, but nearly dropped it from shock at how cold it was to the touch. But he could be preserving energy! The vain hope kept him from collapsing in despair.

"Spock! Speak to me!" he slapped his friend's face to pull him out of the Vulcan healing trance.

He shoved Spock's cold hand against his face, "My mind! Even if you can't speak! Mind-meld with me! Just show me you're alive!"

Kirk squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate, searching for any disturbance in his consciousness, any sign of another mind trying to enter his own, but there was nothing, just the feeling of a cold, dead hand on his face.

He let the hand drop.

"Spock's katra!" he called out into the room at large, "Can you hear me? Are you here? Please!"

"Jim," Dr. McCoy put a comforting hand on Kirk's shoulder.

Kirk spun around to face him, his eyes wild with desperate hope that dimmed the instant his eyes fell upon the interrupter.

Dr. McCoy forged on, "Spock's dead. I can't bring him back, nothing can."

For an instant Kirk's face twisted into an expression of terrible anger, and then he suddenly deflated, his face fell into his hands as he nearly doubled over where he stood.

"Of course you can't," he said, as if the words themselves were painful, "You did what you could, Bones, didn't you?"

He barely looked up to pat McCoy on the shoulder in what seemed to be an attempt at comforting him.

"Do you need to stay in the sickbay?" Dr. McCoy asked, maneuvering to support the captain, "I don't need you getting sick."

Kirk shook his head.

"At least go to your room and get some rest."

"I have a ship to run," Kirk attempted.

Dr. McCoy interrupted him mid sentence, "Not in this state you don't. The crew will understand."

With that he guided the captain back to his quarters and left him there with orders for bedrest.


	2. Postmortem

"Spock-" Kirk began and cut himself off.

"What is it?" First Officer Uhura asked, passing her station at communications on to a well placed subordinate, "If you don't mind my saying, perhaps you need some rest."

Kirk sighed, "Yes, perhaps some rest is in order… Take the helm while I'm gone and call me up if anything happens."

"Yes, captain," she replied.

He forced himself to his feet and left her the captain's chair, as he took the lift down to his rooms. Ever since Spock's death, he had spent an inordinate amount of time in there, half-expecting Spock to call him up on the computer or somehow contact him mentally using some Vulcan mind trick. It was a ridiculous hope, but why? So many times he, or Spock, or any of the other officers had been thought dead, but they had always come back. To think that Spock was actually dead was almost absurd.

But he was dead. No hoping or believing otherwise could change that.

His chamber door opened with a woosh.

_Could it be?_

"I thought you'd be in here." It was Dr. McCoy.

Kirk's face fell, but he managed to muster something between a grimace and a small smile, "Come in. What is it?"

"Nurse Chapel was taking care of things in the sick bay, I thought I'd check up on my psychological duties."

"Ask away. It's about time I had a proper psych exam."

Dr. McCoy chuckled, "Nothing that formal, just making sure you're okay. I see you haven't been staring at the monitor too much."

"I've been keeping myself busy. It isn't like there's a lack of things for me to do around here."

"I suppose being captain has its advantages. But, Jim, don't overwork yourself. As my predecessor would recommend, have a drink."

"Thank you, Bones, but I believe I'll pass."

"Any particular reason, or just watching your health?"

There was a pause as Kirk tried to put it to words, "Call it honoring Vulcan tradition."

"Don't tell me you're going to start calling yourself emotionless too, because then I'll actually have to give you a full psychological exam."

Kirk laughed, "No, I don't think I'll go that far, though their philosophy does have its merits."

"Batty, the lot of them, I'd say, but each to his own. I hope you don't mind," With that, Dr. McCoy poured himself a generous glass from a bottle he had brought to share, and took a large sip.

"I'd advise you go easy on the stuff yourself, Bones," Kirk said.

"I have been, I just thought the occasion called for it." McCoy replied, taking another sip.

Kirk nodded.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

"I still can't believe he's gone." Kirk said suddenly, startling Dr. McCoy back into the present.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, "I don't think any of us can." Dr. McCoy put his empty glass down on the table with a thud. "He'd probably scoff at all of us for it, but I could have sworn he seemed invincible, with all those Vulcan abilities."

Kirk chuckled, "He'd call it utterly illogical - of course he was never invincible, 'all organisms die eventually'," his voice became serious, "I don't think the idea of his own death ever bothered him."

"The idea of _your_ death sure did, Vulcan 'emotionlessness' or no."

"The number of times he saved my life… I wish I could have returned the favor."

"We all did what we could, there's no use in beating yourself up over it, Jim."

"I know, I know. Still, it feels almost impossible, like something must have gone wrong- on a universal level. I can't help but wonder what."

"With how many near death encounters we've all had over the years, I'm almost surprised something like this didn't happen sooner. It's a near miracle that it didn't."

"That doesn't make it any easier now..."

"No, it doesn't. But could anything I say? In this case, I believe time is the best medicine."

"In the meantime, it hurts like hell."

"Sure you don't want a drink?" McCoy offered the bottle once more.

"No, I just need some rest." Kirk waved it off.

"When was the last time you got any sleep?"

"The day before yesterday maybe?"

Dr. McCoy shook his head, "Just remember not to bottle it up too much. Whatever the merits of Vulcan philosophy may be, it's not healthy, not for humans at least."

With that, the doctor left the captain in his chamber to the thoughts whirring in his mind.

* * *

_**As I have been informed, this story ends too soon. If you are of the same mind, or would just like to see more of my work, I recommend checking out "Men Who Never Die." It swaps everything around a bit, but is a more developed story with a similar premise.**_

_**Thank you all who read this little journey into Kirk's psyche, and I hope you enjoyed it.**_


End file.
